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June Writers Room
16th June 2018 @ 10:00am - 12:00pm
Our manuscript clinics are morphing into a writers room. We’ll still be asking attendees to provide feedback for those writers who submit a piece for critique. That aspect of our mornings is considered integral to the club.
The photo to the right will hopefully provide a bit of motivation and inspiration. What story or poem does this image create in the corner of your mind? Bring your short piece along to share with the group. How different will our characters and plots be? How different will our imaginings be from reality? They say truth is stranger than fiction,
at this month’s writers room, the true story behind this photo will be revealed, but will it be stranger than our fiction?
Bring your pen as there will be more writing in our new writers room.
The Truth Behind the Photo:
The photo was recently taken by Amanda Midlam while visiting the UK.
“Dove Cottage in Grasmere in the Lake District where William Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy, lived and later on his wife, Mary, their children and her sister. Lancaster university offers a short course on Wordsworth, which I did, and his life story moved me so much that visiting Dove Cottage was a must. Both his parents died when he was a child and he and his sister, Dorothy, were separated. As adults they rented Dove Cottage and were very happy here and both found inspiration in the garden.”
“Looking down on the back of Dove Cottage from an arbour in the garden. The building behind the cottage is Victorian and would not have been there. The Wordsworth would have had a clear view of the lake.”
William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850) was the only Poet Laureate to not write a single verse for The Crown. Appointed by Queen Victoria in 1843, when he was 73, Wordsworth initially refused the honour, saying that he was too old. Prime Minister, Robert Peel, assured him that “you shall have nothing required of you”. William Wordsworth accepted… and I guess he took Mr Peel literally.
“Dove Cottage was an old inn. The rooms downstairs were very dark with more daylight on the upper floor. Dorothy and William were very poor but hosted other writers. Tea and coffee, which were hugely expensive, were their extravagance.”
“My favourite poem is about the time when he was a boy and he stole a boat and went rowing. In his anxiety a mountain turns into a monster. I had had the idea that poets of his ilk were lofty and I loved the idea that as a kid he nicked a boat and I love, love, love how he gives nature such power.”